The cosy, old school hand-painted illustration of a book-cluttered hall in karen's review together with the title The Library enticed me to grab this, appropriately, from my local library. I'm so glad I did! Yes, I'll grudgingly admit I'm not a child anymore, but I'm well aware of these new soulless block-colour, crisp-lined, computer-generated illustrations which frankly offend my senses, that seeing something lovingly created the old fashioned way warms my heart and fills me with child-like glee. I sound ancient with my When I was young..., I'm really not, though. Unless you think being in your twenties, old. In simple rhyming rhythm the story is told of every seriously obsessive bibliophile [put your hand up if you are one - *waves*] named Elizabeth Brown. From birth it seems she loved books, and I mean loved them, as in addicted to buying them, storing them in every place she can, and reading every minute she can spare throughout every stage of her life. The ending, I won't spoil it, in 1995 could be quite different now with the advent and popularity of e-readers, which is a shame. But it reminds me of the pledge made by [a:Lionel Shriver|45922|Lionel Shriver|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1332800238p2/45922.jpg] in the adult essay compilation of a similar name, [b:The Library Book|13263501|The Library Book|Alan Bennett|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1329144083s/13263501.jpg|18465155].There are more words in this review than there are in the book. You know what? I enjoyed this so much I. must. buy. it. Don't tell anyone, will you? I all ready have overflowing bookshelves myself, despite the Kindle by my bed. Perhaps I should make a pledge of my very own. :D